


Sleepy Snuff

by Rarae



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Implied/referenced Relationship, Pre-Relationship, can be read as gen or not, hibernation, i did not edit this im sorry to say, just a soft fic with lots of fishing, lmk if there are typos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:51:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18637570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rarae/pseuds/Rarae
Summary: Snufkin woke up feeling so sleepy and wanted nothing more than to just spend the day snoozing in his tent. Unfortunately, winter is coming and there's too much to do and a certain troll to see.





	Sleepy Snuff

Snufkin woke slowly, his eyes protesting against his every attempt to open them and his body refusing to uncurl and face the chilly fall- almost winter- air. Fish can wait, he thought. 

Yes, they will wait, but dinner will not. He better get up. It was just so. Hard.

Eventually, however, the need to get up won over his desire to continue sleeping. Normally Snufkin would rise with the sun with the ease of a spring fledgling. But, today, even after he started his morning routine of washing his face, preparing the fishing line, gathering kindle for the fire, he found himself moving slowly. Sluggishly, as if he was wading through molasses.

He saw Moomin and his friends as they rushed past him on their way to collect seashells before winter forced him indoors, but waved off their invitations to join them. Today he would much rather rest and fish by the river. A quiet day by himself- just what he needs.

The soothing noises, however, of the flowing river and the soft whispers of the passing insects lulled Snufkin into a gentle doze. He couldn’t tell you how many fish caught his line only to escape due to his inattention, but at the moment he couldn’t care less.

Again, he woke slowly. He could hear the far-off bird songs and let their sweet melodies sing him awake. The grass was still soft under his paws, a pleasant reminder that winter’s talons has not yet come. He rolled over onto all fours and stretched, raising his tail high with a big yawn.

Snufkin glanced over to his fishing line that was still submerged in the water. It didn’t look like he had caught anything during his brief nap. What a shame. Though, he thought as he looked at the sun, it apparently wasn’t so brief. Noon had already passed and the sun was on her westward voyage once more.

What an oddity this day was.

He reeled back in his line, replaced the bait, and recast it. Hopefully they’ll bite and he can have some fish soup for dinner.

Snufkin stared at the current and yawned, pointed fangs glistening in the afternoon sun. Why is he so tired today? He paused to think for a moment, gazing intently at the river.

Oh. Oh. Oh no.

You see, there are many creatures that claim Moominvalley as home and many more that exist outside it and all are unique in their natures and habits and needs. Humeulens collect with a single minded intensity throughout the winter and summer months equally. Mymbles are forgetful, often come with antennas and furry paws, and never need to hibernate, though they can if they want to. Moomins and Snorks are soft and gentle (especially one Moomin in particular, thought Snufkin), preferring a warm spring day exploring or drinking tea to just about anything else. They do not need to sleep all of every winter, but often prefer to do so.

Mumriks and Joxarens, however, are free-spirited vagabonds, meandering wherever their nature takes them, following only their own mind. They usually still travel through the winter, but some will pick a place to weather out the more piercing cold. However, they are not like Hemuleuns or Mymbles who never need to hibernate. Nor are they like Moomins who always need to do so, but rather they were somewhere in the middle, as they are in most things.

Most winters they could travel as they pleased, but every few years (it could be anywhere from two to ten, depending on the Mumrik or Joxaren in particular) they felt the call of hibernation, that deep-seated and ancient need to sleep through the most deadly of seasons. Snufkin, fortunately, only needed to sleep once every five or so winters and the time had come again.

Oh, dear. Snufkin hated when he had to hibernate. It was always so inconvenient finding a safe place he could stay and rest for three whole months. And it meant less time to travel, besides. Especially now, since winter was the only time of year he was really alone and free to do as he pleased. He would never begrudge Moomin for that, though.

Snufkin sat, watching his line, and was so lost in thought he almost missed when Moomin and Little My appeared next to him.

“Hello, Snufkin,” Moomin said.

“Why, hello Moomin, Little My. How did seashell collecting go?”

“Very well! Snorkmaiden found one shaped like a heart and was so excited. I don’t think she’s ever going to let it out of her sight!”

“And Sniff got his tail pinched by a crab. He screamed like a little baby,” added Little My, laughing.

“Well, that does sound like an adventurous day,” Snufkin said with a smile smile. “Where are they now though?”

Moomin sat on the grass next to Snufkin while Little My walked to the edge of the river. “Snorkmaiden went home to admire her new shell I think and Sniff wanted to go home after his tail got pinched.”

“Ah.”

“And what about you, Snufkin,” asked Moomin, turning towards him. “What did you do while we were away?”

“Oh, nothing much. I slept while all the fish passed me by. Nothing nearly as exciting as crabs or heart-shaped shells,” he said, pulling his line back to recast it again. Maybe a different type of bait was needed?

“You must have been tired then to fall asleep while fishing.”

“Yes, I was.” Should he tell Moomin that it was because it was his winter to hibernate? Or would that just make him worry more? He would understand, of course, being of a hibernating species himself. But he would worry. After all, Snufkin didn’t have a nice, warm, and safe house like Moomin. He had a tent and that would not stave off the cold enough for a long sleep.

Last hibernation he found a lovely cave that he stayed in that was remarkably free of bats or other vermin that might disturb his things. Should he travel back there, he wondered? It was rather far away though and Snufkin worried he would go to sleep one night along the journey and find himself not waking up until spring. Or not at all if the weather was bad enough…

No, he would have to find somewhere close to Moominvalley in case he woke up late and couldn’t make it back before Moomin woke up. He didn’t want his friend to worry.

A tree was no good either- no protection from the cold or snow once they lose their leaves.

This was a problem. No tent, no cave, no trees.

“-kin. Snufkin!”

Snufkin jolted. “Yes? What? Sorry, my mind wandered a bit there.”

Moomin laughed. What a lovely sound that was, almost lovely enough to rival his mouth organ or the bird song that he so enjoyed.

“Yeah, I noticed. You must have been thinking of something important?”

“Somewhat, I suppose.” Snufkin glanced around. There was a certain little troublemaker nowhere to be seen. “Where did Little My go,” he asked.

“She said we were being boring and went off to Moominhouse.”

“I see.”

They were quiet another moment, content to sit and enjoy the other’s company in silence.

I should tell him, Snufkin decided. He is my closest friend and friends should share these sort of things, even if it makes the other worry.

“Moomin,” he started, just as Moomin was starting to say his name.

They laughed. “You first,” Moomin said.

“I was just going to tell you… Well, you know how you hibernate every winter?”

Moomin frowned. He didn’t like being reminded of winter, of the fact that Snufkin’s yearly journey away from Moominvalley, from him, was fast approaching. “Yes?”

“Well, I hibernate as well,” Snufkin continued.

Moomin sat up suddenly and turned towards his friend. “You do?” he asked, his tail flicking behind him. “But I thought you traveled during the winter?”

“I do.”

“But then-”

“Please, give me a moment to explain.”

“Right, sorry.”

“No worries, my friend. I hibernate, yes. But unlike Moomins, I do not hibernate every year.” Snufkin could see that Moomin was bursting with questions, almost quivering with his need to ask, but he refrained from asking, knowing that Snufkin need to explain in his own time and rushing him would not help. “I need to hibernate about once every five years or so and it’s time again this year for me to sleep.”

“Oh! I see. That would explain why you’ve never needed to before.”

Snufkin smiled at Moomin. “Yes.”

They both sat quiet again. Snufkin knew that Moomin would have more questions once he had a little time to think and so he waited. A fish came up to the line and Snufkin watched with disappointment as it didn’t take the bait and swam off.

“Will you sleep in your tent, Snufkin? Oh, I wish you wouldn’t. There will be so much snow and it won’t be safe and you’ll be so cold and- and- please don’t! What if you don’t wake up?” Moomin said. His face clearly showed his concern and agitation. His ears were flicking back and forth, as if trying to dislodge invisible flies.

Snufkin’s heart warmed at his friend’s concern for his well-being. “Don’t worry, Moomin. I won’t be staying in my tent.”

“Oh, good! That’s such a relief. I was so worried. But… where will you go then?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure I’ll find a place. I always do.”

Suddenly Snufkin felt a tug on the line and quickly pulled back the rod and began reeling it in. Excellent! Now he would have dinner tonight. He pulled the fish back to shore and unhooked it. It was a rather small river fish, but it would do. Snufkin gently placed it in his pail that he had already filled with water earlier in the day.

All the while Moomin’s eyes were following Snufkin and Snufkin could tell that he had something brewing in mind.

“What is it, Moomin?”

“You said you don’t have anywhere to stay for the winter, right?” Moomin asked, worry lacing his tone. He grabbed his tail and started worrying at the fur there.

Looking over at Moomin, he walked over and put his paws on Moomin’s. “Please don’t pull your fur out. And yes, I don’t.” Moomin’s face lit up with a bright blush.

“Well, you could- I mean… if you wanted to, you could, you know. Uhhh.” He trailed off, looking at their still-intertwined paws.

Snufkin gave Moomin a gentle smile. “Yes?”

“Well you could... maybe… stay at Moominhouse?” he finally squeaked out and pulled his paws away to put his face in them, covering his ever-rising blush.

“Me? Stay in Moominhouse?”

“Umm. Yes. Please. I, I mean if you wanted… to, that is.”

“I… I’m not sure, Moomin. I would have to think about-”

Moomin couldn’t contain it anymore. “Oh, please, Snufkin. Please stay with m- with us at Moominhouse. It wouldn’t be safe sleeping in the woods! I mean it’s fine normally because it’s only at night. But for the whole winter? Please don’t, Snufkin! You’d be so cold and it would be warm inside and just, just please?”

“I-”

“For me?”

Snufkin stared at Moomin a moment. He had a point and while Snufkin would rather find his own way by himself has he normally does, but… he looked at Moomin. He just looked so worried and would it really be so bad spending the winter with his best friend? It could be very lonely in the winter after all, not that he would ever admit it.

“-I mean what if something happened to you and you were all alone-”

“Yes.”

“-and there was no one there to notice or to help you and-”

“Moomin! Yes.”

“I… yes? Yes!” Moomin leaned forward to take Snufkin’s paws, tail swishing happily behind him. “Wow! That’s amazing! I’m so happy,” he said with a huge smile.

Snufkin grinned and his tail also flicked back and forth a few times. “Me too.”

They both sat next to each other, close enough to feel the other’s body heat, and let the crisp breeze bristle their fur. Winter would be coming soon and, for once, perhaps that wouldn’t be such a sad thing.

**Author's Note:**

> I live off kudos and comments!


End file.
